


Happy Birthday, York

by Red Dragon (Red_Dragonn)



Series: tumblr prompts [4]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Angst, Birthday, F/M, Flash Fic, Grief/Mourning, Happy Birthday York, I Blame Tumblr, Not A Fix-It, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Snapshots, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, half the otp is always dead huh, please comment, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 05:31:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11396322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Dragonn/pseuds/Red%20Dragon
Summary: York is 36 today...or, hewouldbe.Really,really fucking shortfic.





	Happy Birthday, York

Carolina was running low on–well, _everything_ , so this would have to do. A small, straight stick served as a candle, and rather than his favored beer, she had only managed to scrounge up some white wine that had long hence turned to vinegar. Still, it would have to do. 

Today would have been York’s thirty-sixth birthday. 

Carolina let the tears roll down her face freely, hidden as they were under her helmet. For this, she had made Epsilon leave her alone. This was something that Epsilon understood. 

She took out the old red-and-white lighter, flipped it open. He had gotten it before she’d ever met him. In that goddamn nightclub. _If only I had never met him, my York would still be alive_ , she tries not to think. She does this every year.

York was the only thing that had ever made her really, truly happy after her mom died and her asshole father had turned into a raging maniac with too much on his plate to pay her any more attention than he would an unwanted pet. York had cared. York had listened to her, joked with her. Treated her like she mattered.

And she killed him. 

What the fuck was _wrong_ with her?

She blinked the tears out of her eyes and realized that there was enough water on her visor to make it look like the world was swimming. Fuck this. Fuck everything. No one was there to see her anyway. She took off the helmet.

 _Happy birthday_ , she thought bitterly, trying a sip of the rancid wine. It burned, but it still had a bit of an alcoholic kick. Good enough. She poured the rest onto the ground. She lit the stick on fire. Good enough.

Good enough. Was that all there was anymore? She was never good enough alone. She would never be good enough again.

**Author's Note:**

> if you leave a comment i will not only respond but smile a lot and actually flip my shit because holy fuck do you know how much a comment means? i'm not even kidding its like a unicorn shitting on my head or something. like rainbows and happiness everywhere even though you, the unicorn, you don't have to do that much work. but i'm really fucking happy and also motivated and wanna write _more_  
>  please comment. please


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